A " MAKE-UP " BOOK-HOW TO " MAKE-UI ; A practical guide for 
W Amateurs, with Twenty- three Colored Illustrations . jMce 60 cents. 



No. CCCXL. 

FRENCH'S MINOR DRAMA 

THE ACTING EDITION. 



THE EARLY BIRD 



31 farce in €too 3flrt$$. 



CLARA HARRIET SHERWOOD. 



Copyright, 1891, by T. H. French. 



New York : 

T. H. FEENCH, 

Successor to Samuel French & Son, 
PUBLISHER, 

28 WEST 23d STKEET. 



London : 
SAMUEL FRENCH, 

PUBLISHER, 

89, STRAND. 



4 IN^^IKIIE-TTIE 3 BO^l. v 

Containing Rouge, Pearl Powder, Whiting, Mongolian, Ruddy Rouge, Violet Powder, 
Box and Puff: Chrome, Blue, Burnt Cork, Pencils for the eyelids, Spirit Gum, India Ink, 
Camel Hair Brushes, Hare's Foot, Wool, Craped Hair, Cold Cream, Joining Paste, Min- 
iature PuffB, Scissors and Looking Glass; packed neatly in Strong Fancy Card-board 
Boxes, $4.00; Elegant Tin Cases, $5.00. 

TNI AWVI AtTIM.ES TO IP MAD SEPARATELY. Ffll WOES, ICE QATAIMUE. 



FRENCH S DESCRIPTIVE LIST. 



SCENERY. 




With a view to obviate the great difficulty experienced by Amateurs (particularly in 
country houses) in obtaining Scenery, &c., to fix in a Drawing Room, and then only 
by considerable outlay for hire and great damage caused to walls, we have decided to 
keep a series of Scenes, &c, colored on strong paper, which can be joined together 
or pasted on canvas or wood, according to requirement. Full directions, with dia- 
grams showing exact size of Back Scenes, Borders, and Wings, can be had free ou 
application. The following four scenes consist each of thirty sheets of paper. 



GARDEN. 

The above is an illustration of this scene. It is kept in two sizes. The size of the 
back scene of the smaller one is 10 feet long and 6J£ feet high, and extends, with the 
wings and border, to 15 feet long and 8 feet high. The back scene of the large one 
is 13 feet long and 9 feet high, and extends, with the wings and border, to 20 feet 
long and 11^ feet high. It is not necessary to have the scene the height of the room, 
as blue paper to represent sky is usually hung at the top. Small size, with Wings and 
Border complete, $7.50 ; large size, do., $10.00. 



"WOOD. 



v 



This is similar in style to the above, only a wood scene is introduced in the centre. 
It is kept in two sizes, as the previous scene, and blue paper can be introduced as be- 
fore indicated. Small size, with Wings and Borders complete, $7.50 ; large size, do., 
$110.00. 

FOLIAGE.— This ia a sheet of paper on which foliage is drawn, which can be 
repeated and cut in any shape required. Small size, 30 in. by 20 in., 25 cts. per sheet; 
large size, 40 in. by 30 in., 35 cts. per sheet. 

TREE TRUNK.— This is to be used with the foliage sheets and placed at the 
bottom of the scene. — Price and size same as foliage. 



DRAWING- BOOM. 



This scene is only kept in the large size. The back scene is 13 feet long and 9 feet 
high, and extends, with the wings and borders, to 20 feet long and 11>£ feet high. 
In the centre is a French window, leading down to the ground, which could be made 
practicable if required. On the left wing is a fireplace with mirror above, and on the 
right wing U an oil painting. The whole scene is tastefully ornamented and beauti- 
fully colored, forming a most elesrant picture. Should a box scene be required 
extra wings can be had, consisting of doors each side, which could be made prasticabla. 
Price, with Border and one set of Wings, $10.00 ; with Border and two sets of Wings, 
to form box scene, $12.50. 

COTTAGE INTERIOR. 

This is also kept in the large size only. In the centre is a door leading outside. On 
the left centre is a rustic fireplace, and the right centre is a window. On the wings are 
painted shelves, &c, to complete the scene. A box scene can be made by purchasing 
extra wings, as before described, and forming doors on each side. Price, with Border 
and one set of Wings, $10.00 ; with Border and two sets of Wings, to form box scene, 
$12.50. 

The above Scenes, mounted, can be seen at 28 West 23d St., 
New York. Full directions accompany each Scene. 



No. CCCXL. 

FRENCH'S MINOR DRAMA. 

THE ACTING EDITION. 



THE EARLY BIRD 



% farce in €too %tt$. 



BY 



CLARA HARRIET SHERWOOD. 



Copyright, 1891, by T, H. French, 

New York: London: 

T. H. FKENCH, SAMUEL FRENCH, 

jessor to Samuel French & Soar, 



PUBLISHER, 



PUBLISHER 



28 WEST Md STREET. 89, STRAND. 



Vn 



\v 






THE EARLY BIRD. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS 

MISS GERTRUDE WARREN. 

MR. CARLOS CULBERTSON. 

MISS GENEVIEVE BIRD. 

MR. VAN RENSALAER BROWN, An Anglomaniac 



MODERN COSTUMES. 



TMi >9fc-006735 



THE EARLY BIRD. 



(FARCE— IN TWO ACTS.) 



SCENE. — Miss Warren's library, dimly lighted by a crimson shaded 

lamp. 

[Enter Miss Warren in evening dress, holding two letters in her 
hands, at which she looks for some time in silence.] 

Miss W. (Seating herself at a table covered with books and papers.) 
Now, here are two notes from two men so utterly different in char 
acter that I wonder they employ the same language. (Holding 
them at arm's length, one in each hand.) Mr. Carlos Culbertson. 
(Looking at the right haud.) Mr. Van Rensalaer Brown. (Looking 
at the left. Putting them to right and left on the table before her.) The 
sheep on the right hand, the goats on the left. Van Rensalaer 
Brown is worse than a goat. (Bowing to tie envelope.) How do you 
do, Mr. Brown, how can I serve you ? Anything in the way of a 
wife — or similar trifles ? Don't be bashful, or hesitate about ask- 
ing. (Laughs softly. Opens the note, and reads in an affected voice.) 

" My dear Miss Warren : — You have it in your power to make or 
mar my life. (Hum ! That sounds romantic. Be careful, Mr. 
Brown. 0, do be careful.) You have always held the highest 
place in my esteem, and your friendship has been such that 1 now 
dare to hope you will grant the boon 1 ask. (She pauses dramatic- 
ally.) I love — your friend, Miss Bird ! You must have known it. 
For some unknown reason 1 am never able to see her alone. I come 
to you as my last hope in time of need. Can you not help me ? 
I feel that 1 am asking much, when I realize that I have nothing to 
give in return except the undying gratitude of your devoted slave, 

Van Rensalaer Brown." 

No, I thank you, Mr. Brown. (Placing the open sheet on the table.) 
I don't dare to have you for my slave. I " rawther fawncy " you 
would bore me. But 1 have granted your trifling boon. ( With 
stage gesture.) Take her ! She is yours ! I have invited them both 
for this evening. (Turning to the envelope on her right.) Mr. Carlos 
Culbertson ! (Smiles and pauses.) Dear old Carl ! He is indeed a 
lamb! What good friends we always were. (Dreamily.) There 
was a time when he fancied himself in love with me — but that was 



4 THE EARLY BIRD. 

all a mistake. I was more like " a sister to him." (Laughs.) So 
he went West — to bury the pieces of his heart in the plains — as he 
said. (Laugh.) Carl always was a funny boy, and the cleverest 
man I ever knew. But I acted for the best in sending him away. 
N-o — we weren't suited to one another — we are too much alike. 1 
guess he agrees with me now. Maybe some Westei'n girl — (pause* 
and rises to her feet.) I wonder! It is strange he hasn't man- 
aged to see me before this. Can he be in love with some one else ? 
Men are all alike ! ( Walks up and down.) Swear they can never 
care for any one else, and then go right off and marry — some dis- 
gusting Western girl ! Let me see what he says. (Beads letter.) 

" Your note seems to insinuate, my dear Gertrude, that 1 have 
evinced a lack of energy in my fruitless endeavors to see you since 
my arrival a week ago ; but such is not the case." Does that sound 
cold? (Repeats niumblingly, and looks sharply at letter.) "Consult 
your card basket, and the flower table in your boudoir, and then say 
the fault has been mine." (Looks at the flowers she ivears.) Yes — 
he has been sweet. "My affections are capable of all sorts of gym- 
nastics where you are concerned ; but have some consideration for 
my poor material body, and the remarkable shortness of my purse." 
(Laugh*.) Poor Carl ! " But for the weakness of the flesh, 1 assure 
you, you would have found me sitting on your doorsteps when you 
returned from Mrs Somebody's Friday night — or the opera Thurs- 
day night — or Mrs. Some-one-else's Wednesday night. But when 
one is poor, one must be content with the crumbs that fall from the 
table, J suppose. Why, I positively laid awake in church last Sun- 
day morning, concocting schemes by which I might catch a glimpse 
of you." (Laughs.) Laid awake in church ! Carl is so funny ! 
"What was the use! Sunday night I called. Miss Warren was 
taking tea with Mrs. Nabob Grandee But now at last it seems 
that 1 am to have my just reward. Thank you very much for in- 
viting me to your evening at home, and, yes, I shall most certainly 
come early — an hour or so before the rest of the devotees arrive — so 
that we may have an old time talk, as you say. Till then, adios. 
Believe me as ever, 

Yours most truly, 

Carlos Culbertson." 

(Repeating slowly.) "Believe me as ever, yours most truly." 
Isn't that rather stereotyped? (Enter Mr. C. unobserved.) "Be- 
lieve me as ever " 

Mr. Culberston. (Stepping forward.) Yours most truly 

Miss W. (Turning suddenly.) Carlos! 

Mr. C. Culbertson. (He takes her hands, and they stand looking at 
one another in silence.) 

Miss W. 1 — I didn't hear you come in. 

Mr. W. And thus I interposed upon a most imposing pose! 

Miss W\ (Haughtily.) 1 never pose. (Drawing away her hands.) 

Mr. C. I do, when " pro." exceeds " con.", and then you — dis- 
pose. But (pushing a chair toward the divan on which she. is seated) you 
can't call this a stereotyped meeting. The " book " gives different 



THE EARLY BIRD. 5 

directions for greeting a friend after a long absence. You must in- 
quire for his health, and ask questions that will give him a chance 
to expatiate on the beauties of the West. You haven't even said 
you were glad to see me yet. 

Miss W. Nor have you expressed any great joy at once more be- 
holding me. 

Mr. C. " You can see by the expression of my eyes." {There is 
a slight pause and Miss Warren toys with her fun.) 

Miss W. You really haven't changed at all, Carl. 

Mr. C. (Hopelessly.) Unfortunately, no. 

Miss W. Don't fish. You have been sufficiently flattered already 
by my giving you this hour alone. 

Mr. C. (Dramatically.) " And musing there an hour alone I 
dreamed that Greece might still be free." 

Miss W. (Laughing.) Please do not dream in my presence. 
You might repose — to continue that stupid joke of yours. 

Mr. C. If you forbid the realities I can do no more than dream 
of them, and no less. However, I must deny that charge of fishing 
before I forget it. I was not fishing. Even Simple Simon would 
know better than to fish in this locality. 

Miss W. I see. The waters are too shallow. 

Mr. C. On the contrary, no plummet could sound their depth. 
You said 1 was unchanged — I reply that you are right. Had ab- 
sence changed me as you predicted, I would be a happier man. O, 

Gertrude (He is interrupted by the expression of her face as the 

butler appears behind him injhe doorivay.) 

Miss W. You needn't light this room for half an hour, James. 
Is the conservatory lighted ? 

James. Yes, Miss. 

Miss W. And the drawing room ? 

James. Yes, Miss. 

Miss W. Very well, you may leave this for half an hour. 

James. Yes, Miss. [Exit. 

Mr. C. Kind of you to have some consideration for my poor eyes 
— I am already quite dazed. 

MissW. (Ignoring his remark.) I love that lampshade. (Tap- 
ping it with her fan.) 

Mr. C. It is pretty and economical, I take it. Made out of an 
old parasol, isn't it? — the shade, I mean. 

Miss W. (Laughing.) Nonsense, back-woodsman — nothing of the 
sort. I had it made by a man who assured me that he manufac- 
tured them for all the " helight and bong tong" of New York. 

Mr. C. ( With a laugh.) Well, it looks like one, anyway ; and it 
is certainly used as all your parasols are — to shade and at the same 
time enhance a dazzling brilliancy. 

Miss W. (Quickly.) An old flame, you mean. (Pauses and bites 
her lip.) 

Mr. C. ( With a frown and shrug.) O, let it go at that if you like. 

Miss W. (Hastily.) But tell me about your travels, and what you 
have been doing. You know I am always interested. 

Mr. C. (Somewhat sarcastically.) You are at least considerate of 



6 THE EARLY BIRD. 

my feelings to say so. However, I am hardened. The wild West 
has so toughened my feelings that I might drop them from my win- 
dow at the hotel with impunity. My room is on the sixth floor. 

Miss W. (Laughing.) Q, Carl ! You are so funny ! Why don't 
you write for Puck or Life ? You were amusing in your note, too. 
Fancy lying awake in church. (Bursts into a merry laugh.) 

Mr. C. (Extending his aims and addressing an imaginary audience.) 
She thinks I ought to pose as a funny man ! 

MissW. (Still laughing.) Y T ou are funny. You are irresistably 
funny at this moment. 

Mr. C. ( With mock dignity.) I am glad that I amuse you, Miss 
Warren. That, at least, is something to be grateful for. ( With sar- 
casm.) No doubt you thought it funny when I left all my friends 
in general, and one person in particular, to slave in the far West. 
(Rising excitedly.) Perhaps you think it funnier that 1 return. 
( Walking across the room and back.) You evidently deem it facetious 
that a man should be desperately poor and desperately in love at 
the same time (pauses before her), especially when the object of his 
affection is independent in fortune, and independent of any such or- 
gan as a heart. (Tarns away bitterly.) It is all very humorous in 
your eyes — no doubt. 

Miss W. (Brokenly.) Carlos ! You are only joking— you are 
always joking — you are never serious. Y r ou really don't think all 
that about me — Carl ? 

Mr. C. I don't know, Gertrude. I am only certain of one thing 
— I only know that as you say I am unchanged. That I never will 
change. That I (Bell rings, and Miss Warren springs to her feet.) 

Miss W. The door bell — and James has forgotten the gas. 
What shall we do ? ( They stand gazing at one another, and by mistake 
both her hands are in his.) 

Miss W. (In imperative whisper.) What shall we do ? 

Mr. C. (Bending toward her tenderly.) Darling— (Miss W. draws 
back, and he continues in the same tone.) I will light the gas. Where 
are the matches ? 

Miss W. (Despairingly, looking toward the empty vase.) There are 
none ! 

Mr. C. (Solemnly.) Will you help me make one, Gertrude ? 

Miss W. (Excitedly.) For Heaven's sake, don't jest at such a ter- 
rible moment. Y^ou have promised to light the gas. Quick, before 
anyone comes ! 

Mr. C. But how can I if you — if there are no matches ? Ah ! 
(Sees his letter.) There is my letter — I will use it. 

Miss W. (Snatching it from his kind.) No— no— take this. (Gives 
him her handkerchief, which is new and a little stiff, after twisting it (ike 
a lamp-lighter. Mr. C. takes the bit of embroidered fabric in his hands, 
hesitates, sees open letter on the table, looks fondly at the handkerchief as 
he places it in his jacket, unseen by Miss W., twists the letter, holds it 
over the lamp, and transfers the flame to the gas. Then he throws the 
burning paper to the floor, steps on it, draws an ottoman over the charred 
remains, and sits down, as a becloaked and behooded young woman pauses 
in the doorway.) 



THE EARLY BIRD. 



Miss Bird. You see I came early. 

Miss W. So glad to see you, dear. Go right up to my room, 
Genevieve. [Exit Miss Bird. 

Miss W. ( Turning to Culbertson, who is blotting his burned fin- 
gers.) I am so sorry you burned your fingers. (Mr. C. continues to 
scowl and blovx) Does it hurt you much? {Drawing nearer.) 

Mr. C. (Groans.) 

Miss W. (Greatly concerned.) Let me see it. (Mr. C. conies 
nearer than is absolutely 7iecessary.) I don't think I see anything. 

Mr. C. (Suddenly kissing her hand.) Don't you ? 

Miss W. (Drawing back.) Mr. Culbertson ! 

Mr. C. Forgive me — I thought it was my own hand I was kiss- 
ing — to make it well, you know. 

Miss W. (Pouting.) But it wasn't your own hand. 

Mr. C. It ought to be, Gertrude, I've asked for it often enough. 

Miss W. Hush ! Genevieve is coming ! 

Mr. C. H'm ! Who is that young person ? 

Miss W. My friend, Miss Bird. She is to pour tea for me this 
evening. 

Mr. C. H'm ! She is an early Bird. 

Miss W. (Archly.) Yes. The early bird catches the worm, you 
know. 

Mr. C. But I came early, too 

Miss W. Yes. So did the worm that was caught. (Mr. C. raises 
his eyebrows in a noiseless whistle, as Miss Bird bustles and flutters into 
the room.) 

Miss W. (Kissing her.) Genevieve, dear, so glad to see you. 
Let me present my friend, Mr. Culbertson. He has just been enter- 
taining me with some of his Western experiences. 

Mr. C. On the contrary, Miss Bird, I have been recently sojourn- 
ing in the Arctic Circle, and have just returned from a little jaunt 
to the North Pole. (Looking hard at Miss Warren. Miss W. 
laughs covertly.) 

Miss B. Have you really ? Then do tell me something about it. 
Is it very cold there. 

Mr. C. (With feeling.) Bitter— bitter cold. In fact, cold enough 
to make your heart ache. 

Miss B. Ah, now you're joking. O, I see you're joking. He is 
joking, isn't he, Gertrude? I don't believe you've been at the 
North Pole at all. Of course I know you have not been at the 
North Pole — for that hasn't been discovered yet — has it, Gertrude ? 
I mean that I don't believe you have been north at all. Now have 
you ? 

Mr. C. O 

Miss B. I see you haven't. So tell me all about the West. I've 
always wanted to know something about the West. Dear me, I am 
so ignorant of it. 

Mr. C. Ah ! I 

Miss B. Do you know, I think every one ought to know some- 
thing of the West, as it is part of our country — though it is awfully 
shoddy — don't you think so ? 



8 THE EARLY BIRD. 

Mr. C Really I 

Miss B. O, a thousand pardons ! You are from the West — I had 
quite forgotten it. (Enter Mr. Brown, unobserved by Miss Bird, 
though Miss Warren advances to meet him, and they stand near the 
door in earnest conversation.) Of course you are very patriotic and 
all that sort of thing. 

Mr. C. You see 

Miss B. Do you know there is nothing T admire so much as pa- 
triotism, and I always stand up for America — though I do think 
England is so much nicer, don't you? One feels so much more 
flattered by their attentions than by those of Americans — English- 
men are so distingue. Don't you think so ? But you haven't 
told me a thing about your home and the people. I suppose they 
are quite cannibals. Of course I don't mean your people — but the 
natives. {They continue to converse apparently.) 

Miss W. ( To Mr. Brown.) You see I have arranged it to the 
best of my ability. 

Mr. B. (Adjusting his glass.) Ya-as, you have be-en most kind, 
Miss Warren. You've been more than a friend to me. A thou- 
sand thanks — ah — my life, don't you know — all that sort of thing — 
at your service. 

Miss W. I have had this room left open on purpose for you. All 
the other people are to be put in the drawing room, I am going 
there myself as soon as anyone comes. 

Mr. B. Aw — I should have come earlier? 

Miss W. (Smiling.) Yes — she was the early Bird. 

Mr. B. (Laughing nervously.) But you see in this case I — Ha — 
Ha — was willing to be caught ha — ha — aw — wanted to be the worm 
— ha — ha — early worm, see ? 

Miss W. (Aside.) A poor joke, like history, repeats itself. 

Mr. B. How do you think I — aw — I'll come out at the finish ? 

Miss W. Eeally, Mr. Brown, I can't tell, I have given you the 
opportunity. 

Mr. B. Ya-as, of course 

Miss B. (Turning and seeing Mr. B.for the first time.) Why, Mr. 
Brown, dow do you do ? I see you already know Mr. Culbertson. 
He has been telling me all about his home in the West, and it is so 
interesting. 

Mr. C. (Aside to Miss W., counting on his fingers.) I said — let me 
see — three sentences, of six word3 each — I tell you I am learning to 
converse. 

Miss B. Why don't all young men go West. 

Mr. B. Awfully hard lines — aw — don't you know — to leave the 
charms of Eastern society 

Mr. C. Friends, the diagram that goes with Mr. Brown's remark 
declares in simple parlance that you, individually and collectively, 
are so attractive that in the remote West a young man's life is " not 
a happy one — happy one." Although occasionally you make us 
wish we had never been born (or some similar trifling sensation), still 
your mere presence is a boon — am I interpreting correctly, Mr. 
Brown ? 



THE EARLY BIRD. 9 

Mr. B. Ya-as, aw — perfectly — perfectly. Howace Gweely's ad- 
vice, don't you know — aw 

Mr. C. Not meaning any disrespect to Horace, I have always 
believed, and still believe, that he wanted to get the young men out 
of the way, and thus have the field to himself. 

(All laugh, and Miss Bird, who for some time has been looking around 
with a puzzled, expression, finally speaks her mind.) 

Miss B. Do you smell anything burning ? 

(Miss W. and Mr. C. exchange glances.) 

Miss W. What do you mean ? 

Mr. C. Do you smell anything burning, Miss Warren ? I do not. 
Mr. B. Ya-as, I fancied I detected the odor of burned fabrics as I 
entered the room. (Examines Miss Bird's gown with great concern.) 
Miss W. Oh — a — perhaps the lamp shade has become scorched. 

(Miss W., Mr. C. and Mr. B. move simultaneously toward the lamp, 
where they remain in discussion for some moments.) 

Miss B. (On opposite side of the room — aside.) I don't believe it's 
the lamp shade at all. (Sniffs.) It doesn't smell a bit like it. 
(Sniffs.) There certainly was a commotion of some sort when I 
came in. I wonder what it was. (Sniffs.) It smells like burned 
paper. (Goes to table and sees empty envelope addressed to Miss W. in 
Mr. Brown's chirograph.) "Miss Gertrude Warren !" Now what 
has Van Rensalaer Brown been writtng to her for, I should just like 
to know — when he's always pretending — to — to — (examines envelope 
— starts.) It's empty ! (After a pause.) I know what it is — I see 
it all — Mr. Culbertson found this letter of Van — Mr. Brown's, I 
mean — and they had a quarrel over it — and she burned it. I know 
it — I am certain of it — O, how I wish I knew what was in that let- 
ter. Men are so deceitful ! I — I wonder if she burned it all. Of 
course, I wouldn't read it — it's no business of mine. Besides, it 
would be dishonorable — but I would just like to see the outside of it 
to see what it is like — to — to see how long it was — I don't care what 
he said to her. Why should I? (Looks anxiously about the (able.) 

Mr. B. Miss Warren — aw — there is a tiny green worm on one of 
your roses. 

Miss W. (Raising her fan.) Where is it? 

Mr. C. Ah ! Strike it not, fair lady. Even a worm may turn. 

(Mr. Brown saunters over to Miss Bird.) 

Mr. C. I have a fellow feeling for worms — especially little green 
early worms like this. Shall I remove it? Shall I offer it at the 
shrine of Miss Bird ? 

Miss W. (Stepping back and smiling.) I believe I would rather 
keep it myself. 

Mr. C. (Puzzled.) My lady is pleased to be esoteric this evening. 

MissW. (Listening.) I hear the bell. Some one has come. We 
must go to the drawing room. 

Mr. C. And shall I see you alone ? 



10 THE EARLY BIRD. 

Miss W. Not to-night. 

Mr. C. To-morrow morning, then ? 

Miss. W. Very well. 

Mr. C. Then I shall go now. 

Miss W. {Laughing.) What! Are all the charms of the early- 
Bird lost upon you ? O, Genevieve, some one one has come and we 
are going to the drawing room. Come in when you like. 

{Exeunt Mr. C. and Miss W.) 

MlSS B. ( Who seems absent minded — -examining the room when Mr. 
B. is not looking — aside.) I won't think any more about that disgust- 
ing old letter ! 

Mr. B. (Aside.) What's up — 1 wonder? She seems abstwacted. 
Per — perhaps she's waiting for me to speak. Now's your chance, 
Van Kensalaer — (bracing himself.) Bwace up, old fellow ! (Aloud.) 
Aw — won't you sit down, Miss Bird ? 

Miss B. (Turning so suddenly as to startle him.) What for? 

Mr. B. (Confusedly.) Oh — ah — nothing — in fact — aw — I thought 
you might be fatigued, but if you prefer standing 

Miss B. (Laughing.) You talk like a photographer. (Suddenly.) 
There's Gertrude's camera. Let's take some flash-lights. You take 
my photograph — or 111 take yours. (Assuming the manner of a pho- 
tographer.) Which do you prefer — sitting or standing ? 

Mr. B. (Facetiously.) If aw — if I could draw the queen, Pd 
stand. 

Miss B. I'll not laugh at that, for I see you've been playing that 
naughty game again. 

Mr. B. Life's but a game of cards. Only so much more, don't 
you know, depends on the queen. 

Miss B. (Looking at the envelope.) Still more upon the knave. 
But I thought you were going to take me 

Mr. B. (Springing forward?} With — with all my heart 

Miss B. (Pouting.) Nonsense! You know I only meant my 
photograph. 

Mr. B. All right — aw — I'm a capital photographer. So — so 
much depends on the pose — don't you know. Ya-as — now — aw — 
turn your head a little this way. (Turns her head with his hands.) 
No — aw — this way. No — perhaps this is the best way. (Moves her 
head to one side, and gazes sentimentally into her eyes.) Gad ! I'll — 
I'll turn photographer ! 

Miss. B. (Drawing back a little embarrassed.) I — I don't think you 
know very much about taking pictures. 

Mr. B. O — ya-as — ya-as, I assure you. Now you must have a 
headrest. Now — aw — let me see — a headrest. I'll stand behind 
you so — (holding her head in position with one hand, he bends over her 
shoulder and. looks lovingly into her face.) How's that? 

Miss B. But how are you going to take the picture if you stand 
there ? 

[Enter Mr. Culbertson.] 

Mr. I beg your pardon 



THE EARLY BIRD. 11 

Miss B. {Coming forward in great confusion.) You see he was 
taking my photograph — posing me, you know. 

Mr. B. Ya-as — ya-as. Don't you think it was artistic — that sort 
of thing, you know ? 

Mr. C. Miss Warren sent me for a letter addressed to her, which 
she said I would find here. 

Miss B. (Aside.) She wants it. Now I knew there must have 
been something in that envelope. 

Mr. C. (Looking about.) It doesn't seem to be here, so I will not 
intrude farther on the artistic pursuits. [Exit. 

(Miss Bird sits down stiffly, and taps her foot impatiently.) 

Mr. B. Why — aw — what's the matter ? Can't I take your photo- 
graph ? 

Miss B. (Pursing her lips.) You have forgotten yourself strange- 
ly, Mr. Brown. 

Mr. B. Why — I was only taking the aw — photograph 

Miss B. You — you were unduly familiar, and what do you sup- 
pose that man from the North Pole, or the Cannibal Islands, or 
wherever he did come from — I'm sure 1 don't know or care — thinks 
of me. 

Mr. B. If you aw — don't care what he thinks 

Miss B. (Sharply.) Did I say I didn't care what he thinks? I 
said I didn't care where he came from, and I don't — I only wish 
he'd go back to his old Arctic Circle — it's the only circle he's fit to 
move in 

Mr. B. Ha— ha— ha 

Miss B. Now what are you laughing at? It's all very well for 
you to sit there and laugh, after putting me in an embarrassing po- 
sition. 

Mr. B. (Drawing ottoman to her feet, thus disclosing the half burned 
paper.) Miss Bird — Genevieve ! 

Miss B. (Excitedly — aside.) There is that piece of letter ! I was 
right — I knew I was right. I must get it without his seeing it — 
(tries to reach it with the toe of her slipper, while Mr. Brown is talking.) 

Mr. B. You know you have my — aw — undying love. You know 
— aw — What the deuce are you looking at? 

Miss B. (Quickly.) Nothing — nothing. Look me straight in the 
eyes and say every word of that over again. 

* Mr. B. (Aside.) Gad ! (Aloud.) 1— I— said I loved you— I— I 
adore you, I — aw — I — hang it — what did I say ? But if that hap- 
pens to be a dagger you see before you, aw — (turns to see what she has 
been looking at.) 

Miss B. (Springing to her feet and standing over the paper.) Mr. 
Brown, will you get me a glass of water ? 

Mr. B. (Excitedly.) Are — are you going to faint ? (Puts his arm 
half round her.) 

Miss B. No — no, indeed. That is, I mean yes — I do feel a little 
faint. I should like a glass of water. 

Mr. B. But do sit down, dear Miss Bird— Genevieve. You do 
alarm me so. Take this chair 



12 THE EARLY BIRD. 



Miss B No — no. I never sit down when J faint — I always 
stand. Besides, I'm not going to faint if you just get the water 

(Mr. Brown looks anxiously at her and exit.) 

Miss B (Snatching up the paper.) Yes — his letter. (Examines it 
closely.) I shan't read it. Besides, it's nearly all burned. (Holds 
it at arm 7 s length, but. gradually draws it nearer.) What's this? "In 
your power" — "make or mar my life" — " I love " — "nothing to 
give in return " — " undying, devoted slave." The very words he 
said to me — the deceitful wretch! I'm glad I read it (Pauses 
guiltily.) J read Gertrude's letter. But it was lying open on the 
floor. Anybody might have looked at it, and, of course, I didn't 
know what it was. (Pauses.) I'll put it back where 1 found it. 
(Hastily pulls the ottoman over the letter again.) And now I suppose if 
I don't faint he will suspect something. (Looks about the room ) 
Where's the most becoming place to faint ? 1 hope it will scare 
him well. Yes, a dead faint is the best scheme, and if he calls any 
one, 1 will revive. Gracious! Here he comes. (Staggers toward a 
chair and falls, as Mr. Brown enters with a. glass oj water.) 

Mr. B (After looking about the room suddenly discovers her, and well 
nigh drops the glass in his surprise.) Great Heavens ! She's fainted ! 
( Wildly!) What — what shall I do ? (Hesitates a moment, and then 
throws the entire contents of the glass full in her face.) 

Miss B. (Springing to her feet, gasping and sputtering.) Mr. Brown ! 
How dare you — how dare you ? O, this is adding injury to insult. 

Mr. B. (Meekly.) I — I thought you had fainted. 

Miss B. You had no business to think. And, besides, if I had 
fainted, is that any reason why you should attempt to drown me ? 
Besides, I told you I wasn't going to faint. 

Mr. B. (Excitedly.) Genevieve, forgive me. I — 1 love you — I 
am your slave — I — I 

Miss B. (Scornfully.) My slave now. How many masters do you 
serve, may I ask ? At least take me from the list. (Siveeps majes- 
tically past him.) Good evening, Mr. Brown, and good bye. 

[Exit] 

Mr. B. (Starts to follow her — pauses — thrusts his hands deep into his 
pockets, and stares blankly for a minute.) Gad! (Dramatically.) If 
she's the early Bird, I certainly am not the aw — the early worm. 

Curtain. 



ACT IL 

SCENE. — The same room. James draws portieres, and Mr. Culbert- 

son enters.) 

James. You see it's pretty early, sir, and Miss Warren is not 
down yet. 

Mr. C Very well. You may let her know that I am here, and I 
will wait. {Exit James.) It seems very dark here, coming in from 
the bright sunshine. {Stumbles over an ottoman, and sees the paper 
beneath.) There's the paper I burned last night. {Examining it 
absent mindedly.) " Your devoted slave, Van — van." Jove ! it's 
dark here ! I couldn't read it if I wanted to. " Van Rensalaer 
Brown." {Turns it over and reads slowly.) " Make or mar my life — 
nothing to give him return — " Why, the fellow's in love. Lit- 
tle cad ! {Laughs, and suddenly becomes grave.) But he has plenty 
of money. Is it possible that she would take him for his money ? 
H'm ! {Places paper under the ottoman as Miss W. enters.) 

Miss W. Good morning. You are the early bird this morning. 
{Gives him her hand.) 

Mr. C {Detaining it.) And what is to be my reward? Last 
night you said I was the early worm 

Miss W. {Laughing.) And the Bird caught you. 

Mr. C. ( With mock dignity.) Refrain from allusions to Miss Bird, 
if you please. Such allusions are distasteful to me. This morning 
you say I am the early bird. If the worm, where is the bird that 
will gobble me ? If the bird, where is the prize I get ? 

Miss W. I suppose you want me to play the role of worm ? 

Mr. C. Nay, lady. Be the bird, and I am your willing worm. 

Miss W. What ! And "gobble " you ? Never. 

{Laughing, she throws herself into an armchair, and he draws the ottoman 
to her feet, thus disclosing the letter.) 

Miss C {Tenderly.) Dearest Gertrude, don't trifle with me any 
more. Surely I have been tested. (Miss Warren looks intently at 
the bit of paper on the floor.) What are you looking at? {He turns 
and sees the paper.) O, is it possible that you are really going to sell 
yourself? Are you going to marry that cad? {Takes Miss War- 
ren's handkerchief from his pocket by mistake, and presses it to his fore- 
head.) 

Miss W. {Puzzled.) What are you talking about ? I am an- 
noyed that the room has been neglected till this hour. It is out- 
rageous! There is your burnt offering of last night still on the 
floor. {Sees handkerchief.) Why, Carl? What are you doing with 
my handkerchief? {Examines it.) Yes, it is mine, I thought you 



14 THE EARLY BIRD. 

burned it last night. What is that, then ? (Tries to get the letter, but 
Mr. C. puis his foot on it.) 

Mr. C. (Tragically.) Answer me first. Are you going to sell 
yourself ? 

Miss W. (Archly.) That depends. Who wants to buy me? 

Mr. C. (With the air of a purchaser.) How much do you cost? 

Miss W. I am an expensive luxury ; but just now I would give 
anything for that paper. 

Mr. C. (Taking her hand.) Will you give me this? 

Miss W. My hand ? O, yes. 

(Mr. C. takes it, draws her to him, and kisses her.) 

Miss W. O, I only said my hand. I 

[Enter Mr. Brown.] 

Mr. Brown. (In the doorway.) Are you here, Miss Warren? 
Aw — the butler said I would find you here. It is deucedly dark after 
the sunlight, you know — aw — are you here ? 

(MiSS W. hastily arranges her hair and advances to meet Mr. Brown, 
while Mr. C. replaces the ottoman.) 

Miss W. Good morning, Mr. Brown. 

Mr. B. Miss Gertrude, you have deceived me. 

Mr. C. (Aside.) So she has encouraged him. 

Mr. B. Why, hello, Culbertson, old fellow. I — aw — didn't see you 
before — you see, Miss Warren 

Mr. W. Yes, I perceive that I am de trop. Good morning, Miss 
Warren. 

Miss W. W T hy, where are you going ? 

Mr. C. Back to the Arctic circle. 

Miss W. (Loftily.) Of course, if you have an engagement there, 
don't let me keep you, but there is nothing that Mr. Brown has to 
say which you may not hear. Is there, Mr. Brown ? 

Mr. B. (Hesitating.) Aw — no — certainly not — of course not. 

Mr. C. (Grimly.) As Mr. Brown is so anxious to have me stay, I 
will remain. 

Miss W. Mr. Brown wrote me a note begging me to bring about 
a meeting between himself and — and a certain young woman. 

Mr. C. (Aside.) Yes, he is that young woman's " devoted slave." i 

Miss W. Didn't you, Mr. Brown ? 

Mr. B. (Still hesitating.) Aw — ya-as. 

Mr. C. (Aside) Why doesn't the cad help her out ? She ought 
to " wake to ecstacy the living " liar. 

(Voice calls Gertrude, Gertrude, are you there? Enter Miss 
Bird. The men retire to a far corner of the room and Miss 
Warren advances.) 

Miss W. How do you do, dear ? (Offers to kiss her.) 
Miss B. (Draiving back.) Dear, don't you call me dear after the 
way I was treated in your house last night. I was coming here this 
morning to act as though nothing had happened. But it's no use. 



THE EARLY BIRD. 15 

I can't be a hypocrite. I never was a hypocrite, and I never will be 
a hypocrite. Don't say a word. You invited me here to meet him 
when you knew all the time he was in love with you. O, you did, 
you know you did ! 

Mr. C. (Aside.) Invited the Bird here to meet me ? The plot 
coagulates. 

Miss B. (Continuing.) You made me think he was in love with 
me. O, yes, you did. You know you just wanted to humiliate me. 
It isn't that I care for him — I never did care for him. (Sobs.) 

Mr. C. (Aside.) We see you never did. (Mr. Brown smiles 
ecstatically, and stands behind Mr. Culbertson.) 

Miss B. It's only that it breaks my heart to think you would de- 
ceive me so, Gertrude. Why, I never would have believed it — if it 
hadn't been for that letter — (pauses in alarm and confusion.) 

Mr. B. (Aside to Culbertson.) Shield me, old chappie. (Steps 
behind a screen.) 

Miss W. What letter? 

Miss B. (Lifts her head and discovers Mr. Culbertson.) Why — 
why — there is Mr. Culbertson ! Why didn't you tell me he was 
here ? I had no idea you were here, Mr. Culbertson, and 1 think it 
was very cruel of Gertrude not to tell me. 

Miss W. But you haven't given me a chance to tell or explain 
anything. Now, what letter do you mean ? 

Miss B. (Stammering.) Well, Gertrude, you see I — I never 
would have read it of course, if — if I had known it was your letter. 

Mr. C. Of course not — neither would I. 

Miss W. So you have read this mysterious letter too. 

Miss B. There was nothing mysterious about it — it was a regular 
love letter. Wasn't it, Mr. Culbertson ? 

Mr. C. If I am a judge of that article. (Sheepishly.) 

Miss W. Well ! The calm way that you people confess to hav- 
ing read my private correspondence is extraordinary ; and a letter 
of such a fictitious character, too. May I inquire who was the au- 
thor and finisher of this remarkable production ? 

Miss B. Well, it wasn't exactly a letter, was it, Mr. Culbertson ? 

Mr. C. No — only half a letter, but better than none. 

Miss B. And signed by him. 

Miss W. By Mr. Culbertson ? 

Miss B. No — no — by Mr. B — rown. (Mr. Brown peeps excitedly 
over the top of the screen, but Miss W. waves him back.) 

Miss W. (Losing her patience.) If you want to keep this farce up 
any longer, very well — I confess I am rather bored myself — I do not 
see the joke. 

Mr. C. (Meekly — looking at the bit of paper -which protrudes from be- 
neath the ottoman) I do — I see it under the ottoman. 

Miss W. What ! Was that the paper you refused to give me? 

Mr, C. (Picking it up.) I will give it to you now, if you still 
hold to the original conditions — remember ? 

Miss W. (Trying to take the paper.) I remember — I'll see about 
it 

Mr. C. (Holding it above her head.) That will not do. 



16 THE EARLY BIRD. 

Miss W, Well, if von are bound to ase compulsion — yes, then. 
{Snatches the paper.) Why ! Ihis it Mr. Brown's note. How does 
it happen to be burned ? 

Mr. C. (Penitently.) I sacrificed it instead of your 

Miss'W. {Hastily interrupting,) O, I see. {Examining paper.) 
And from this fragment you both supposed Mr. Brown was making 
love to me 

Mr. B. {Craning his neck over the screen — aside.) Explanation of 
fainting fit. 

Miss W. Whereas in reality the letter was one begging me to 
bring about a meeting between you, Genevieve. If you examine 
this elosely, you will see that there is still enough to prove the 
truth of my words — {icily) since it has become the fashion to read 
other people's letters and doubt their word. 

Mr. 0. {Salaaming.) " Pardon for Pitti Sing — pardon for Koko." 

Miss B. {Puzzled.) 1 don't think I quite understand. 

Mr. C. Why, don't you see? {Grosses over to her and appears to be 
explaining.) 

Mr. B. (Aside to Miss W.) What am I do to? She would never 
forgive me if 1 came out now — aw 

Miss W. ( Whispering.) Go out that door, and tell James to an- 
nounce you as though you had just come. [Exit Brown. 

Miss B. Dearest Gertrude, please forgive me. 1 know I have 
acted terribly, but it was only an old piece of burned paper lying 
there on the floor, and I saw no harm in reading it. O, dear Ger- 
trude, please, please forgive me. (Throws her arms around Miss 
Warren.) 

Miss W. (Coldly.) Certainly, dear, say no more about it; and do 
be kind to poor Mr. Brown if {looks behind the scieen) if you should 
ever see him again, (Mr. C looks behind the screen and glances in- 
quiringly at Miss W., who tries to explain by gestures.) 

Mr. C. And is all the wrath of the Diva to be hurled upon one 
contrite offender? If I might press my plea as did Miss Bird. 

Miss W. (Eailing utterly in her effort not to smile.) Well, since 
you can't, I'll try to forgive you. 

Mr. C. (In her ear ) But I can and I will presently. 

James. (Parting portieres.) Mr. Brown- 
Miss W. (Rather gv^hingly.) Why, Mr. Brown, how do you do? 
I am delighted to see you. 

Mr. C. (Coming forward officiously.) Why, Brown, Good morning 
— I haven't seen you for a long time. 

Miss W. ( With a warning glance.) You saw him last night, you 
know. 

Mr. C. Last night ? So I did. 

Mr. B. (Advancing toward Miss Bird.) Am 1 forgiven ? 

Miss B. O yes — that is — well, you see my gown wasn't spoiled at 
all and you know you — see, when I found out about the letter — 
( Pauses in confusion.) 

Mr. C. (Coming to the rescue.) By the way, how did that photo- 
graph come out last night ? 

Miss B. We didn't take it. 



THE EARLY BIRD. 17 

Me. G. lam sorry for that, as I was going to beg the use of it to 
illustrate a little story of mine called " The Bird or the Worm " 
Mi» W The story- Well hear the story. 
MR. B. lie.,v l iear J 

Miss B. O yes, do iln j t 

Mr. C. {Making a profouna , ouk) La dies and gentlemen 

Mr. B. Aw — 1 say now, do you st~ ,i 0UD l e ? 

Mr. C. I stand corrected. [Bowing ^„j more) Lad' H 

gentleman ; one 2 upon a time there was an early » .'J S and 

Mr. B. What kind of a time was he on? 

Miss W. Silence among the gods ! (Mr. Brown bows *„ 
knowledgment of the implied compliment.) Proceed, Mr. Speaker. 

Mr. C. He possessed none of that distressing quality known as 
laziness. He was up and out upon the surface of the earth at break 
of day — long before his less enterprising companions had roused from 
their slumbers. • 

Miss B. Tumultuous applause. 

Mr. C. His elders had frequently remarked in his hearing, " First 
come, first served " so he always made it a point to be first in every- 
thing. 

Mr. B. Cheers — cheers ! ! ! 

Miss W. Laughter and applause. 

Mr. C. Poor early worm. Had he been less energetic he might 
have escaped the sad fate which befell him, and lived to a good fat 
old age. But alas ! Such was not the case. He persisted in being 
early, and an early bird flew by one day and gobbled him up. 

Miss W. " If you have tears prepare to shed them now." 

Mr. C. Moral : Be certain that you are the bird before you try to 
be early. It is all right in that case. But you cant always tell. 
Sometimes you are the worm when you think you are the bird. 
( With a profound bow Mr. C. retires to his seat amidst clapping of hands.) 

Mr. B. Ya — as, but I can imagine a case when aw — don't you 
know, it would be bliss and all that sort of thing, don't you know, to 
be even so vile a thing as aw — an early worm. (Looksfondly at Miss 
Bird.) 

Mr. C. Yes, a great deal depends on the bird, I admit. 

Miss W T . And you know Genevieve, that according to Darwin 
birds and serpents are related. 

Miss B. (Bewildered.) Well, I'm sure I don't know what you're 
all talking about; but if you mean 

Miss W. Mr. Brown can explain, I know. 

Mr. C. (Leading Miss W. towards the door.) Yes, let's leave them 
to discover their relations, and I predict that however early she may 
be in future years, she will not be an early bird. 

Curtain. 




PROSCENIUM AND DROP SCENE. 

3E*H.O 83 0323 ZKTXTX3JME.— A most effective Proscenium can bo 
formed by utilizing the paper made for this purpose. Three pieces of wood are merely 
required, shaped according to this design, and covered with the paper ; the proscenium 
having the appearance of light blue puffed satin panels, In gold frameB, with Shake- 
speare medallion in the centre. 

Puffed satin paper, Light Blue, size 20 inches by 20 inches, per sheet, 25 cts. 
, Imitation Gold Bordering, per sheet, 25c, making 14 feet. 

Shakespearian Medallion, 18 inches in diameter, 50 cts. 

3DROI* JSOJ32K1" 33.— The picture shown above is an Illustra- 
tion of this scene. It comprises four sheets of paper which are to be pasted in the 
centre of any sized canvas that may be requisite for the drop curtain. Size 6^ feeb 
by 5 feet. Price $2.50. 

DOOH.S a — These comprise three sheets of paper each, and can be 

had either for drawing-room or cottage purposes. Size, 7 feet by 3 feet. Price, com- 
plete, $1.25 each. 

lJ7f7"HNJ"330T^F".— This is a parlor window formed with two sheets 
of paper, and could be made practicable to slide up and down. The introduction of 
curtains each side would make it very effective. Size, 3 feet by 4*£ feet. Price, 
$1.00, complete. 

IPIFLDESl^OXX 'WIN'IDO'W.- Consisting of four 
sheets of paper, representing a window containing four large ornamental frosted glass 
panes with colored glass around. Size 6^ feet high by 5 feet. Price $1.50. 

2PU^;E33E*Xji.^1l.CJIE2« — This is also made with two sheets of paper. 
The fire is lighted, but should this not be required a fire-paper can be hung over it. It 
will be found most useful in many farces wherein a character has to climb up a chim- 
ney, and many plays where a fireplace is indispensable. By purchasing a door, win- 
dow, and fireplace an ordinary room scene c 'i easily be constructed with the addi- 
tion of some wall-paper. Size, 3 feet by 4% f»._.. Price, complete, $!.$&. 



FRENCH'S ACTir* ^tttqns. 



untie "W" 



April Folly 

At Sixes and Sevens 

Barbara 

Baron's Wager 

Betsy 

Bow Bells 

Breach of Promise 

Breaking the Ice 

Brothers (The) 

Bubbles 

By Special Request 

Case for Eviction 

Chalk and Cheese 

Charity 

Circumstances Alter Cases 

Confederate Spy 

Compromising Case 

Crazed 

Crossed Love 

Danicheffs 

Dimity's Dilemma 

Dreams 

Duchess of Bayswater & Co 

Duty 

Engaged 

Equals * 

False Shame 

Fennel 

First Mate 

For the Old Love's Sake 

Garden Party 

Garrick (Muskerry) 

George Geith 

Gentle Gertrude Buil 

Girl Graduate 

Girls (The) 

Glimpse of Paradise 



Gretchen 

Harvest Home 

His Own Guest 

Hook and Eye 

In Honor Bound 

Iron Master (The) 

Lady Fortune 

Linked by Love 

Long Odds 

Love Game 

Lyrical Lover 

Major and Minor 

Man Proposes ( Grundy) 

Marble Arch 

Melting Moments 

Merry Meeting 

Mariner's Return 

Miser 

Month After Date 

My Friend Jarlet 

My Little Girl 

My Lord in Livery 

Nearly Seven 

Nearly Severed 

Nettle I 

Not Such a Fool, etc. 

Obliging His Landlady 

Off Duty 

Old Cronies 

On the Brink 

Once Again 

Once a Week 

Open Gate 

Overland Route 

Palmistry 

Petticoat Perfidy 

Pity 




015 910 007 g 



Progress 

Punch 

Ruined by Drink 

Railway Adventure 

Row in the House 

Sample vs. Pattern 

Saved 

Second Thoughts 

Senior Wrangles 

Sins of the Fathers 

Sixpenny Telegram 

Sour Grapes 

Spur of the Moment 

Steeple Jack 

Step Sister 

Sunny Side 

Sunset 

Sunshine 

Taken by Storm 

Tears; Idle Tears 

That Dreadful Doctor 

The Nightingale 

Thorough Base 

Through the Fire 

Tom Pinch 

True Colors 

Two Pros 

Which 

Why Women Weep 

Woman's Wrongs 

Written in .sand 

Yellow Roses 

Yeoman's Service 



GUIDE TO SELECTING PLAYS; 

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Costumes, Time in Representation, and the Plot or Advice, connected with 
1,500 Pieces. 



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T. H. FRENCH 
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=a 



